


Caroline Cooks

by DisMoi, KatieDingo



Category: Last Tango In Halifax
Genre: Caroline and Gillian being all domestic, F/F, I’m presuming they’re living together..., Who knows where this is going, but don’t count on it, probably starting after S5 but I didn’t ask and she didn’t tell, two writers playing, we might stumble upon a plot point every now and then
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:08:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29890572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisMoi/pseuds/DisMoi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieDingo/pseuds/KatieDingo
Summary: This story is a literary game of handball between Katie Dingo and Dis-Moi. We each write about 500 words before handing it back to the other who does the same. It’s IMPROV, with no plotting or serious editing. We merely receive each other's volley with just a “Yes, and…” acceptance and continue. Where will it end? We have no idea. We hope you’ll join us for a meal.
Relationships: Gillian Greenwood/Caroline McKenzie-Dawson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	Caroline Cooks

Caroline stood over the hot stove, stirring the steaming pot of soup for the umpteenth time, making sure to scrape the sides and bottom of the large pot in the process. Tendrils of steam carried the aroma up to her nose. She worried she hadn’t diced the slab bacon small enough. She worried she’d not added enough salt. She worried the substitution of dried thyme for fresh thyme would somehow be detectable. She worried.  
  
She tapped the wooden spoon a couple of times against the side of the pot to dislodge the translucent onions clinging to it, set it down on the spoon rest and returned to her seat at the long dining table. She checked the Nigella Lawson recipe one last time before closing the book.   
  
“Drooling over Nigella?” Gillian asked as she walked into the kitchen to find Caroline’s hand resting on the book cover, precisely over Nigella’s generous chest. Gillian moved close and peered over Caroline’s shoulder to get a better look at the cover. “Hmmm. Something smells delicious.”  
  
“It’s just split pea soup,” Caroline responded flatly.  
  
Reaching over to take a sip from Caroline’s wine glass, Gillian paused as the rim reached her lips. “I wasn’t talking about the soup,” she replied. She gave Caroline a quick kiss on the top of her head before checking contents in the pot on the Aga. Lifting the lid with one hand, she picked up the spoon with her other and gave it a deep stir. “Thought you were making lentil but this looks great.”  
  
“Hmmm. That was the plan,” she said as she rose to get a stemmed glass to pour Gillian a well-earned drink.   
  
“Did I hear the Hoover?” Gillian swirled the deep ruby liquid and took a sniff before sipping. “Is this Shiraz?”  
  
“I decided to cook with wine,” Caroline jested, happy to no longer be drinking alone. “The bag of lentils was torn and I didn’t realise it until I had a sea of lentils on the floor. Of course, the vacuum bag was full and dirt flew everywhere when I went to change it.”  
  
Gillian moved to give her a sympathetic hug and kiss. As she pulled back, a coy smile took over her tired face.  
  
“What?” the head teacher asked, doing her best impersonation of Lawrence when he had no idea why his mum was looking at him with a knowing look.  
  
“I’d have paid to see you wrestling that mess, in your pearls, all prim and proper looking while letting the swear words fly,” she teased.   
  
Caroline chuckled, raising her fingers to touch her pearl necklace. “Flora was playing nearby so I could only think them,” she admitted, comfortable that Gillian wasn’t teasing her for any reason other than to prove how well she knew her.  
  
“Are you going to do everything in those pearls?” Gillian chided, pleased her gift had been so well-received. It was the necklace her parents gave her for her 15th birthday. She’d worn them to a school dance, just before she got pregnant. After that, she tucked them in her jewelry box and had forgotten about them. Once she married Eddie, she left her jewelry box at home, afraid he’d sell her things since money was always tight. After Eddie, she never had an occasion to wear them, not even when she was with Robbie.  
  
She had been struggling to come up with a fabulous gift for Caroline when it dawned on her that although she always wore pearl earrings, she didn’t own a strand of pearls. Caroline’s reaction to the gift was played out over several days, rendering Gillian breathless with anticipation whenever she came home that week. She’d been left with no doubt Caroline thought them a wonderful gift, from the ecstatic squeal of delight when she first received them, to the fact Caroline never took them off, not even when they were making love.  
  
Celia had been stunned by the discovery of the gift when Caroline had picked Flora up one afternoon. It had inspired a sour-faced expression and Caroline wondered how long before Alan would be strongly encouraged to splash out some cash to match the gift. Neither Caroline nor Gillian were surprised when a month later, Celia was crowing about her own new pearls.  
  
“I certainly am going to do everything in these pearls. I love them,” Caroline said, the smile heard in her voice. She reached out with a long arm and pulled Gillian in close. “Someone very special gave them to me, and I treasure them.” She looked into Gillian’s face, affection written all over her own, whispering seductively, “What would you like me to do in them tonight?”  
  
Gillian laughed tightly, thrown by Caroline’s shift into ‘night mode’, as she’d come to call it.  
  
“I like you in the pearls, but you could wear fewer scarfs and more tight sweaters like Nigella.” Without giving her lover a second to react, Gillian quietly asked, “Are you already thinking about tonight?”  
  
“Too often with you,” Caroline admitted, letting the fashion advice hit the floor. She stood slowly, bringing herself level with Gillian before landing the softest of kisses. “You tempt me, you temptress.”  
  
Gillian chuckled quietly. “I do? Happy to do that.”  
  
Flora burst into the room, little legs running as she weaved her way around the table, arms out carrying a drawing.  
  
“Aunty Gillian! Look what I did for you.”  
  
The women stepped apart discretely, Gillian reaching for Flora’s picture.  
  
“Hi Chicken. ‘ave a good day?”  
  
“Yes. That’s for you,” she said, offering it to the farmer.  
  
“Thank you, Flora.” Gillian looked at it more closely. She was likely to be the brunette, and the smaller girl with dark hair was obviously Flora. She presumed Calamity was in there too, but instead of Caroline, there were a number of weird four-legged creatures. She pointed to them, eyebrows raised.  
  
“They’re sheep!”  
  
Flora stepped in closer to point to specific sheep. “That’s Henrietta, and that’s Bridget because she’s always stroppy, and that’s Gladys.”  
  
Gillian started chuckling, then laughing.  
  
Caroline looked askance at her.  
  
“We’re going to put this on the fridge, and we’re going to name them...for Greg!”  
  
Caroline balked, holding in a laugh. “Oh you can’t...”  
  
“It’s perfect! Of course we can. It’s Flora’s genius we’re showin’ off.” Gillian grabbed a fridge magnet and stuck it on the fridge, right in the middle. “Pride of place, that is.” She smirked, the temptation to stir always just under the surface. Lucky Flora was in on it, or the drawing would quietly be hidden whenever Greg came over. Caroline was too polite to Greg’s sullen partner sometimes, Gillian thought.  
  
The dinner was lively with Flora keeping the women entertained by retelling her antics at school and after school mayhem with Calamity. As Gillian cleared the dishes, Caroline oversaw Flora’s bath and settled her into bed for the night. By the time she came back downstairs, she found Gillian sprawled on the settee in the lounge, with two glasses of brandy resting close at hand.  
  
“Did she go down okay?” Gillian asked, hoping Flora wouldn’t hear them if they turned in early, and God, she so wanted to turn in early. Caroline’s playing footsie with her under the dinner table let her know the rest of the night would be promising.  
  
Caroline picked up a snifter and swirled the amber liquid, inhaling its aroma before taking a sip as she sat on the edge of the settee so her hip nestled against Gillian. The amorous farmer wriggled toward the back rest to make a little more room for Caroline.  
  
“She’s out for the count,” Caroline said as she leaned in for the first of many kisses. Eventually the blonde had to shift a bit to relieve her back that was beginning to ache. She handed Gillian a snifter and took a sip from her own. As the spirit slid down her throat, she could feel its heat taking hold, and she was suddenly grateful for Gillian’s thoughtfulness in squaring away the kitchen so she could relax. “Thanks for doing the dishes. Is that recipe one to do again?”  
  
“Flora’s asleep, the dog’s napping, we’ve talked to just about everyone we know on the phone, which I’ve turned off so no one can call us. Do you really want to waste time talking food?” Gillian gently twisted Caroline’s pearls with her right forefinger and threaded the fingers of her left hand into the silky blonde locks, to slowly pull her down into kissing range. The blonde’s lips curled into a wickedly delicious smile let Gillian know that they were of one mind, at least for the moment. The rest of the world gradually fell away as they kissed, a soft and sensual exploration Gillian had come to know Caroline treasured. It left them both a little breathless.  
  
When she came up for air, Caroline smiled, the affection clear. “I’m getting too old to shag on sofas,” she murmured, her gaze travelling between Gillian’s lips and the farmer’s intense green eyes. “How about we take our brandies upstairs?”   
  
Gillian nodded. “If you carry our drinks up, I’ll take Ruth out one last time.” Upon hearing her name, Ruth sat up and waited to see who would walk toward the door.  
  
As Caroline quietly made her way past Flora’s room and down the hallway to their bedroom, she thought about how lonely she’d been when she’d first moved. She hated how empty her nights were back then. She missed the comfort of having a partner beside her and feared that her young child and all her baggage would make it impossible to find someone for the long haul. The noise of muffled chatter she heard coming nightly from the Buttershaw’s bedroom was a cruel reminder that her mum had succeeded where she had failed. By the time her mum and Alan had moved to their own bungalow, she was more than ready for peace and quiet. Initially content to have her independence back, Caroline eventually grew to dread the endless peace and quiet, especially in the evenings.  
  
Tonight, from the ensuite, she could hear Gillian calling to Ruth in the yard and thought about how Gillian was the last person she would have imagined filling her life with the company she craved. She studied her face in the mirror and thought about how that bungalow made it possible for her and Gillian to find their way to living together. She was confounded by how the life they were building was so much more fulfilling than the one she had dared hope for during those empty nights.  
  
By the time Gillian settled Ruth and made her way upstairs to their room, Caroline was under the covers, perched on her pillow with just her pearl necklace and naked shoulders on display. Gillian moved about the room silently, enjoying having Caroline’s eyes following her every move. When she was finally ready to climb under the covers, Caroline held them up for Gillian to slide in to meet her in the centre of the mattress.  
  
“Well hello,” murmured Caroline, her voice a lower pitch than normal, sensuality threading through it.  
  
It was the tone Gillian knew was just for her. It made the words secretive, giving them a special resonance. She knew the timbre was rich with possibilities and any words spoken were layered with the depth of truths rarely spoken. Her heart beat faster.  
  
“Hello to you too.”  
  
Gillian rolled on top of Caroline before straddling her, the sheet cascading into a crescent around their hips. Her hands caressed their way slowly up Caroline’s freshly revealed chest before fingers found their way to the pearls around Caroline’s neck.  
  
“It’s like a string of moons around your neck, lighting my path to you.”  
  
“Oh that’s romantic,” Caroline whispered, reaching to bring Gillian to her.  
  
Their kiss was luxurious, sensuous. They took their time, using it to reconnect before the heat took them further. Early enough in the evening for them both to have energy, their lovemaking was languid and tender, with breaks for brandy and whispered affection. This was not the passion of new love, but of lovers who knew how to please each other, when to pause, when to push, and when to let go.  
  
Caroline knew this was also a way for Gillian to experience lovemaking in a different way from her past, and this was important to both of them. There were triggers Caroline avoided, both with language and with touch, to ensure Gillian felt safe. They were only small adjustments, but it meant the world to Gillian, freeing her from her past, allowing her to blossom into a joyful and cheeky lover as well as one who could match Caroline’s intensity.  
  
After consummation they lay entwined, their communication distilled to soft touch and sighs. They slept, and as one moved the other would follow, hands unconsciously tracking and touching so their connection was never broken. While strong and seemingly independent during the day, by night the sharper edges of their defences lowered and their bond became clearer. By night they were a pair, travelling dreams in tandem until the sun rose to separate them again.


End file.
